


Like The Stars That Shined

by butliamwhy



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Growing Up Together, Hurt/Comfort, Kid Fic, M/M, SO MUCH FLUFF, and i will tell you what parts to skip and what you miss, but i would hate to not add it and trigger someone, excessive use of donuts, if you're worried message me, it is an in passing encounter that's less than 200 words, personification of trees, this part is so minor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-03
Updated: 2016-08-03
Packaged: 2018-07-29 00:07:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7662490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/butliamwhy/pseuds/butliamwhy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis has stars in his eyes. Harry has known it since they were kids. They have their own tree, their own café booth, and so many years to fall in love. Perhaps a lifetime.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like The Stars That Shined

**Author's Note:**

> This fic my interpretation of [Mary's Song by Taylor Swift](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8Pli_HXTjaE) but gay
> 
> It has been a long time in the making, so I have a few people to thank for this: 
> 
> Most importantly, [Kelli](http://jimmytfallon.tumblr.com) . You are the only reason this fic ever got finished. You have been the best support system when things went wrong, and the most amazing cheerleader when things were going right. (Hold your nose for the sap). You're truly one of the most amazing people I have ever met, and you continue to be one of my favorite people on this planet. You're strong, smart as hell, creative, and everything I want to be. Thank you for being you and always being there for me and constantly making me a better person. <3 
> 
> [Ashlee](http://unintentionalarry.tumblr.com) and [J](http://paynner.tumblr.com), thank you for being betas and cheerleaders and keeping my head on straight. Thank you Ashlee for being my Meredith. Thank you J for inspiring me, challenging me, and helping me be the best me. 
> 
> [Zoë ](http://oiiiioiiii.tumblr.com) thank you for last second britpicking and being your amazing, incredible, beautiful, and wonderful self always!
> 
> [Jess](http://someonethatsfunny.tumblr.com) , [Jen](http://zenlikejen.tumblr.com), and [Maya](http://droppingtheveilofmaya) thank you all for being you and always being the best part of my day. Thank you for championing me through this. Jess, thank you for being my beta and my mother and sharing your heart with me always. Jen, thank you for being supportive and loving and my mother. And Maya, thank you for loving me unconditionally and always making sure I know I'm loved and supported. 
> 
> Lastly, I want to thank [Aaron](http://aaronbutterfield.tumblr.com). You are one of my most sincere friends and you have given me the confidence to keep writing. I wrote this in hopes that it would have been finished by your birthday. I may be a few months late, but I hope you still love it. 
> 
> To everyone else, I hope you enjoy the story. <3

He knows he’s not supposed to listen to the grown ups, but he heard Louis’ name. Louis would want to know what the grown ups are saying about him when he’s not around. So Harry is going to listen to the grown ups, but only this time. Only this one time. 

“They’re gonna fall in love one day, you know?” 

Harry gets a fuzzy feeling in his stomach when he hears his dad say that about him and Louis.

He doesn’t know what love is. But he knows  _ Louis _ . And he knows that Louis always makes him laugh until there’s milk in his nose. He knows that Louis always has the best secrets. He knows that Louis always makes him smile until his mouth doesn’t want to smile anymore. And that feels like love. He’s happy Dad sees it too.

All the grown ups are looking at Louis and Gemma while they play footie in the back garden. 

“I know. Gemma and Louis are just meant for each other. They come from good stock.” 

Harry’s stomach doesn’t feel light anymore. The fuzzies are gone. It doesn’t feel good anymore. His tummy feels full. Like when Mum says no more ice cream and he eats more anyway. It doesn’t feel good. He doesn’t like hearing Louis’ dad say that stuff about Louis and Harry’s sister right now. He wants to stop listening. 

He pouts. That’s not how it’s supposed to work. Harry’s chest feels tight. And his eyes are stinging. But he’s six now. He’s a big boy. Big boys don’t cry.

He tries to sniff up his boogers as quietly as possible, but Jay looks at him anyway. She closes her right eye quickly, and Mum giggles when she looks at Harry. 

It looks like the mums know a secret that Harry doesn’t know. He knows he’s not supposed to be there, so he doesn’t ask. He just quietly walks back to his toy room.

He doesn’t tell Louis what the grown ups said. Because when Louis comes running into the toy room and tickles Harry with his stinky grass hands, Harry laughs too hard to even think about the grown ups. It’s not Harry’s fault he forgot.

\---

Louis is holding his hand.

Louis is holding his hand and not telling him where they are going. But Harry trusts Louis and he knows Louis wouldn’t take him anywhere bad. So he keeps following Louis down their street, through a bush, and up a hill that Harry has never seen before. 

When they get to the top, Harry sees a big tree that goes over the side of the hill. They can see all of Cheshire from here, even that shop with the best donuts. It’s really pretty up here.

“Can you keep my secret, Haz?” Louis asks quietly from his spot next to Harry. 

When Harry looks over, Louis is looking at the ground. Why is he looking at the ground? There are so many pretty things to look at from here. Harry makes his hand tighter in Louis’ until he looks at him. 

“Of course. I would keep every secret for you,” Harry whispers. He doesn’t know why he’s whispering, but he feels like he needs to. 

Louis has stars in his eyes. Harry didn’t know stars could be in people’s eyes. But he knows if anyone would have stars in their eyes, it would be Louis. 

“Well,” Louis says after a long time, “this is my tree. But we can share this tree if you’d like.”

Harry can’t help but giggle. 

“Louis,” Harry says, trying to stop his giggles, “trees don’t belong to people. Trees belong to themselves. Don’t be silly.” 

When Harry looks back at Louis, all the stars have left his eyes. He doesn’t look happy. He looks mad. He looks mad at Harry. Louis is never mad at Harry. This doesn’t feel good. 

“What is that supposed to mean?” Louis asks. He lets go of Harry’s hand very fast. Harry doesn’t like that. He wants Louis to be holding his hand. “Am I not allowed to like a tree so much that it feels like my tree?” Louis says. He sounds angry. He looks angry. He’s walking Harry backwards into the tree without giving Harry much space. 

“I-” Harry tries to say something, but he doesn’t know how to make Louis less angry. He doesn’t like angry Louis. He wants the stars back in Louis’ eyes. “No, of course not, Lou. I just thought-” 

“You thought I was stupid for wanting a tree? Is that it? That’s how you feel, Styles?” Louis spits out. He’s really close. But not the fun kind of close when they’re telling secrets. He’s the bad kind of close, like Gemma when she’s being mean. Harry doesn’t like Louis being mean. “Fine. I don’t know why I shared my tree with you anyway.” 

Louis starts walking away like he’s going to leave Harry. But how will Harry get home? Louis wouldn’t leave Harry, would he? Louis turns back around really fast. 

“I could beat you up, you know?” Louis says. Harry doesn’t know what’s happening. “You’re so little. You’re smaller than me. I could beat you up for making fun of me.” 

Harry’s eyes are starting to sting. But he’s seven now. And Louis is nine. Boys don’t cry when they’re seven, especially not in front of boys who are nine. They don’t. So Harry needs to stop himself from crying right now. When Louis turns away again, he tries to sniff all the snot back up. 

At the sound of it, Louis turns around faster than last time. Like he’s making sure he heard right. When he looks at Harry, he walks back up to him as fast as he can. 

“Hazza,” Louis says quietly. But he just said he was going to beat Harry up. What if he’s going to beat him up? Harry turns away from Louis as fast as possible, shielding his head from a punch that he’s sure is coming. 

But the next thing he feels is Louis’ hand on his arm. Gentle, always so gentle. Harry turns around. 

Louis’ eyes still don’t have stars, but they don’t look mad either. They look sad. Harry’s belly feels heavy again. He didn’t like mad Louis, but he hates sad Louis. He tries to sniffle again, but he feels hot water running down his cheek instead. 

“Lou,” he chokes out. Before Harry knows what else to do, he feels Louis’ arms around him. Safe. He feels safe. Protected. 

“I’m sorry, Hazza. I didn’t mean it,” Louis says while he pulls Harry in tighter. Harry thinks he hears him sniffle too. “I would never hit you. I’m sorry, Harry. I’m sorry. So sorry.” 

Harry tries to hold on to Louis has hard as he can. 

“I’m sorry, Lou,” he says with a sniffle. “I didn’t mean to make fun of your tree. I thought you were trying to be silly. You’re always so silly. You can have whatever you want. Whatever tree you want. I’ll get it for you,” Harry says as fast as he can. He’s serious. He needs Louis to know that he’s serious. “I promise, Lou.” 

He brings his own arm behind his back, finds what he thinks is Louis’ pinkie, and links them together. 

“I promise,” Harry whispers into Louis’ neck. 

He feels Louis smile into the top of his head. Harry can’t do anything but smile and curl himself deeper into Louis. His arm isn’t comfortable. But he will keep it there as long as Louis needs him to. 

After a little bit, Louis pulls away from him. When Harry looks up, the stars are back in Louis’ eyes. 

“You have stars in your eyes. Do you know that, Lou?” Harry asks as he touches the corner beside Louis’ eye. The skin crinkles under his finger as Louis giggles. 

“You’re so funny, Hazza,” Louis giggles. It still sounds like there are tears in his voice. He takes a deep breath and takes another step back. “So Curly, do we have ourselves a tree?” Louis asks. This time, there are no more tears in his voice. He sounds like Louis again. 

“We have ourselves a tree,” Harry says with his little finger out. 

Louis giggles and his little finger joins Harry’s. 

\---

The air is getting a little colder and The Tree is losing its leaves, but Harry knows they’ll grow back. Its leaves will always grow back; their tree will never die. It’s one of the only things Harry knows as fact.

Another thing Harry knows as fact? Louis is the prettiest boy he will ever see. Even now, with his eyes closed, just lying next to him with both of their heads cushioned by their favorite roots, he knows Louis is the prettiest boy he’ll ever see. Harry knows their tree will never die, there are stars in Louis’ eyes, and he’s the prettiest boy Harry will ever see. 

“How do you know, Haz?” Louis’ voice is small, the voice he only uses for Harry. Well, for Harry, Jay, and his sisters. Harry knows that this is important; one of those secrets that only Harry gets.

“Know what, Lou?” Harry asks.

He turns his head and  _ oh _ . He’s met with another one of the basic facts in Harry’s life. The World is staring back at him. Louis’ eyes are a perfect crystal blue, but during “secret time” Harry gets to see the little green, gold and orange specks that are hiding in those eyes. He’s lost track of how many spots he’s found in them over the years, but he knows it’s enough. Enough that Harry knows that Louis carries The World in his eyes. 

“How do you  _ know _ , Haz?” Louis’ eyes bulge out of his head when he says ‘know’. And yeah, Harry gets what Louis is talking about now.  It’s the only other thing that Harry knows as fact.

Harry likes boys. There hasn’t been a day in his twelve years of life where he has looked at girls the way he looks at boys. Their tree will never die, Louis is the prettiest boy Harry will ever see, he has both stars and The World in his eyes, and Harry likes boys.

“Well…” Harry says, shifting into a seated position. “I guess it’s always just been part of me?” Harry murmurs as he twists his fingers into blades of grass. “I mean, I know that girls are pretty. I can admire pretty things.” He chances a glance down at Louis. His face is open, concentrated, and kind of serious, but he’s looking up at Harry with a sense of curiosity too. When their eyes meet, Harry can’t get himself to look away. “Like, I always knew that girls were pretty. But boys are pretty too, you know?” 

Harry can tell that he isn’t making sense, but Louis’ eyes tell him that he’s still listening, trying to understand everything he is saying. He takes a deep breath. 

“I’ve never really wanted to kiss a girl. Never wondered what it’s like to kiss a girl.” Harry says, letting his eyes drift down to Louis’ lips. They’re thin, but they look soft. There’s also that hidden mischievous smirk that always seems to rest on them. Harry forces himself to make eye contact just as he sees those lips part in a soft exhale. 

“Yeah?” Louis asks, sitting up and mirroring Harry’s crisscrossed position, their knees knocking together. 

“Yeah,” Harry thinks he replies. Really, the only thing he can hear right now is his heart pounding in his chest.

He looks down at his lap then, not knowing what else to do with his hands. He tries to braid the blades of grass that separate him and Louis. After a few minutes, Louis’ hands land softly on his own. 

“Anything else?” Louis whispers. 

“Um…” Harry tries to put into words something he’s never really thought about before. He’s just always known. “No? I don’t think so. Really, I’ve just never looked at a girl as anything other than a friend. Girls are nice, and sometimes nicer than boys. But I’ve only ever wanted to be friends with girls.” He brings his shoulders to his ears at a lack of a good explanation. He hopes Louis doesn’t expect him to say anymore.

Minutes go by where Harry can’t hear anything but his heartbeat and Louis’ breathing. During that time, Louis’ fingers end up winding through his own. 

Harry tries to breathe normally. When did his breathing get so shallow? Another few minutes pass before he can make himself look back at Louis. 

But Louis is looking just past Harry’s shoulder, eyes on the town. He looks like he’s concentrating more to the left than anything which means he’s probably looking their favorite restaurant, Barbra’s Café.

Harry squeezes Louis’ hands for a beat, enough to pull Louis’ focus back to him. 

“Want to go try to see what new donut Barbra is cooking up down there?” Harry asks, feeling a bit of the tension from the past couple of minutes leave his body. 

He starts to turn, but his arms are locked in place. Confused, he looks back at Louis. As long as Harry has known him, he has only been unable to read Louis’ emotions a handful of times. Now is one of those times.

“Have you ever kissed a boy, Harry?” 

Harry? Louis only calls Harry ‘Harry’ when he’s mad at him or when he wants him to pay attention. Harry forces himself to pay attention.

“No?” Harry asks. He’s so confused? Louis would know if Harry had kissed a boy before. He’d know if he kissed anyone before.

“But you  _ want _ to kiss a boy?” Louis asks. Except he isn’t really asking, Louis' just stating something he already knows.

“Ye-” Harry doesn’t know when his throat got so tight. He coughs. “Yeah, I want to kiss a boy. Just one boy though,” he finally manages, shifting his gaze to the bark over Louis’ shoulder.

“I dare you to kiss him,” Louis answers. 

And that’s... that’s not fair. That’s the signal they use when they know what the other boy wants, but know he won’t make himself do it. Does Louis know Harry wants to kiss him? 

When Harry looks back up at Louis’ face, his eyes are closed, and his lips are scrunched in a relaxed pout. If someone were just looking at Louis, they would assume he’s resting. But Harry knows Louis. And Louis’ mouth doesn’t sit in a pout unless they’re playing with their mums' makeup, or…

Harry starts to lean in, and he doesn’t know if it’s the fact that he can’t see stars right now or what, but something stops him. And before he knows what’s happening, he’s tearing his hands from Louis’ and running down the hill screaming, “LAST ONE TO BARBRA’S HAS TO DO THE OTHER’S DISHES TONIGHT,” over his shoulder.

\---

“Why are you being such a prick?” Louis screams without preamble as he barges into Harry’s room. 

“Hello to you too, Lou,” Harry says, trying to make himself sound as calm as possible. 

“Fuck you. Don’t give me that ‘Lou’ bullshit like you care about me. It’s been three weeks and I’m lucky if you text me back within twenty-four hours.” 

Louis’ seething from the looks of it. His hair looks like he’s been running his hands through it all day, and the bags under his eyes tell Harry he hasn’t been sleeping well. Harry forces every muscle in his body to not to reach out for Louis and comfort him.

“Oh, that’s rich,” Harry spits out. “That’s really fucking rich, Louis, coming from the guy that can’t even take one minute to detach himself from Johnny for more than five seconds to wipe his own arse. Really fucking rich, Louis.” 

Louis looks surprised, like he hadn’t been expecting Harry to be honest with him. Frankly, Harry hadn’t expected to be this honest either. 

“Harry, what the fuck are you talking about? And what the fuck does Johnny have anything to do with us?” Louis asks, throwing his hand back and forth between them. 

“I saw you.” Harry’s voice cracks. He turns around so Louis doesn’t see his quivering lip. His throat feels tight when he takes a deep breath. “I came over last month to get my Rolling Stones t-shirt, and I saw you  _ with _ Johnny. In your room with Johnny. Guess you didn’t think anyone would be home because the door was cracked open.” Harry tries to sniffle without Louis hearing. 

He jumps slightly when he feels a delicate hand on his shoulder. It’s warm, comforting in a way that Louis always is. But Harry doesn’t turn around. 

“Hazza,” Louis whispers. 

Harry refuses to be the stupid, pining best friend. “No, Louis. It’s fine. You can do whatever you want, but I don’t exactly want to see you with your hand wrapped around someone else’s junk.” 

He hears Louis take a deep breath before taking a step back. 

“You’re not being fair, Haz.” 

Louis sounds so small. Fuck it, Louis probably already knows he’s crying. He turns around. Louis is looking out the window, his arms crossed over his chest, wearing the same Rolling Stones t-shirt Harry had been looking for. He has on soft grey sweats and his glasses. He looks so fucking beautiful. 

“What do you mean, I’m not being fair?” Harry asks, incredulously.

“You won’t even... we haven’t even-” Louis looks frustrated with himself and with Harry. When he turns and their eyes meet, Harry can’t find any stars, and the normally radiant blue looks dull like someone stole all his light. “Harry. I haven’t spoken to Johnny since that day. He came over, said he wanted to work on our history project, told me he liked my eyes, then he started kissing me. We awkwardly exchanged handjobs, and afterwards, he asked me if I would finish the project myself. I kicked him out. It wasn’t... it didn’t  _ mean  _ anything.” 

He looks defeated and Harry wants nothing more than to take back everything he has done in the past three weeks. Harry stays strong for exactly three seconds before he charges across the room and wraps Louis up with his arms around his waist. Louis reacts instantly, throwing his arms over Harry’s shoulders.

“I’m so sorry, Lou,” Harry whispers. “I’ve been such an idiot. I just thought you got a boyf-” Harry’s throat closes up again. “I don’t know what I thought, Lou. I’m so sorry.” 

When Louis pulls back after a few minutes, his eyes are bloodshot and Harry’s shoulder is damp. 

“Why didn’t you talk to me?” Louis asks. He looks like he wants to ask something else too, but stops himself. 

“I don’t know, Lou,” Harry answers honestly. He rests their foreheads together, the way they always do when they’re trying to reassure the other. “This is just entirely new ground. I guess I’m just not ready for you to replace me,” Harry says, squeezing his eyes shut. 

There’s a few moments of nerve-racking silence before Harry opens his eyes. 

Louis looks confused. His eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes look hurt. 

“I would never,  _ never _ replace you Harry,” Louis states. His voice is soft, but stern. He keeps their foreheads together to whisper, “You mean the most to me. I can’t imagine my life without you.” 

Harry feels like his chest has been cracked open. 

Louis separates them, only to grab Harry’s hand and walk them towards the bed. They lay down, sharing the same pillow, staring into each other’s eyes. Louis looks like he’s trying to find something in Harry and Harry can only hope he finds it. 

“Why would I ever want to replace you?” Louis whispers, maintaining eye contact. 

“Because you’re you, Lou. You’re smart and brave and strong. You don’t need to keep having to worry about your fourteen year old sidekick,” Harry says, diverting his eyes out the window over Louis’ shoulder. 

“Harry,” Louis says sternly. “You are not my sidekick. You are my best friend. You are what makes me a better person. And I’m perfectly content worrying about you the perfect amount.” Louis cracks a smile. Harry sees some of the stars beginning to break through. “Who else will make sure you don’t trip over yourself?” 

Harry feels his cheeks heat and his lips curve into a small smile. He hides his face in Louis’ neck. Soon, Louis’ arm comes around his body, pulling him into his chest. 

“Does this mean you’re done being a prat now?” Louis asks, smiling into Harry’s hair. 

“Yeah, as long as you give me Johnny’s address so I can kick his arse.” 

Louis’ delighted laugh is the most beautiful thing he’s heard in weeks.

\---

It’s quiet all the time now. Louis and Gemma went off to Uni and left Harry here all by himself.

Well, he’s not  _ all _ by himself; he has Niall and Liam, but it’s not the same. There’s no hair dryer going off at odd hours of the day, no music breaking through Harry’s walls, and no boy sitting on his bed talking his ear off while he’s supposed to be revising. There’s nothing.

Harry needs to find something to do with himself or he might actually go insane.

Just as he starts his daily ‘I Miss Louis’ walk through town, he spots a new sign in Barbra’s window:  _ HELP WANTED _ .

Harry smiles to himself and pushes through the familiar baby blue door.

He isn’t ready for the onslaught of nostalgia that accompanies the faint scent of old paint, icing sugar, and the sight of his and Louis’ empty booth. It’s always left empty for them, but only because every person in this town has heard Louis’ tantrum when it isn’t.

To be fair, it’s always been  _ their _ booth because it’s the one that is the least visible to the rest of the café. Anytime they tried to sit anywhere else, people got huffy about them making too much noise or lobbing sprinkles at the other patrons. Everyone should thank them for choosing their booth, really.

As Harry makes his way over to the counter, Barbra emerges from the back.

“Harry, my love! How are you?” she practically sings as she pulls him into a bone crushing hug. “I’ve missed you! Did you bring the troublemaker with you? Is he visiting for the weekend?” Barbra asks excitedly, surveying the café as if she expects Louis to pop up out of nowhere. Has Harry really not come in since Louis left a month ago? Is it really already November?

Harry lets out a soft laugh. He wishes.

“No,” Harry says as he wills his cheeks to cool. “He’s still at uni. The course he’s on keeps him from coming back until March.”

Barbra looks like she’s about to say something, but changes her mind at the last second.

“Oh! Well, then to what do I owe the pleasure?” she asks instead.

Harry itches the back of his hair, then points his thumb over his shoulder. “I was actually, uh, looking to see if you were still hiring?”

Barbra looks like Christmas came early.

“Oh, of course, my love! I would love to have you! Why didn’t I think of that before? Why did I even bother with the bloody sign in the first place? How old are you again, dear?” she asks, each sentence running into the next, each question quicker than the last.

“M’sixteen.”

“Oh, that’s perfect, oh, yes. Yes! Of course I’m still hiring. You have the job,” Barbra practically yells.

“You don’t even want to interview me?” Harry asks, unsure. He’d be happy to take the job, but it all seems rather quick.

Barbra fixes him with a stern look. “I’ve known you since before you could talk. I think an interview would be a bit silly. Don’t you?” she says warmly. Only Barbra could make something as important as hiring someone sound as trivial as ordering pizza.

“Yeah,” Harry answers as he looks down at his feet.

~~~

Wow. Louis has really missed this town. It’s only been six months, but it feels like it’s been six years. That may or may not have a lot to do with missing a certain someone who fills every memory he’s ever made here.

If only he’d been able to come home for Christmas or any of the breaks before now. If only his course wasn’t so bloody irregular, maybe he wouldn’t feel like there is a weight tied to his heart right now. 

Before Louis goes home, he has to stop and get two donuts. As he pushes through the familiar baby blue door, every single emotion he’s ever experienced in this café comes flooding back. Every smell is a favorite day from the past, every chair has a story about why it’s slightly broken, and every chip of paint has a perfect laugh accompanying it straight to his heart.

He tries to shake all of those feelings off as he strides towards the counter, but before he even gets halfway there, Louis’ heart stops and he’s pretty sure he’s not breathing.

Because there, right in front of him is his Hazza. But he isn’t really his Hazza anymore, he’s, wow. He’s? Wow!

Save for the occasional snapchats showing only half his face and the one hour Skype session they had a week after Louis got to Uni, he hasn’t seen Harry in six months. And wow, have those six months changed him.

The first thing Louis notices are his eyes. It’s almost as if they’ve grown twice their original size. As he studies further, he realizes that Harry’s jaw has become more defined, so much more defined. His hair is longer and curlier? How is it even possible for Harry’s hair to have gotten  _ curlier _ ? He seems slimmer too. Harry’s never been anything other than a normal sized boy, but it’s almost as if all of his baby fat has melted away and left Louis a different boy completely. He knows something else has changed, but he can’t put his finger on it.

Really, if Louis were to summarize it, it just seems like Harry is more than he was when Louis left. Not bigger or better, just  _ more _ .

Louis knows the exact moment that Harry spots him because he blinks his new owl eyes once, twice, nope, three times before his entire face lights up.

Louis doesn’t even know he’s moving until he’s on the other side of the counter, wrapped up in Harry’s arms. And the second he is, he feels safe, warm, protec-

That’s what Louis didn’t notice at first. Harry is bigger now; he’s taller. Not only is he taller than he used to be, but he’s taller than Louis. And that... well, that just won’t work.

Instead of saying anything, Louis lets himself melt into the hug because even if Harry looks different, he’s still Harry. He still smells like Harry; like boy, like the laundry detergent Anne uses (the same detergent Louis couldn’t find at uni no matter how hard he tried), and he smells like something unique. A smell that Louis couldn’t replicate in his wildest dreams. A smell that’s completely Harry. Mostly, he just smells like home.

Louis doesn’t even bother lifting his face from Harry’s neck when he exhales a soft, “I missed you.”

He doesn’t have to wonder whether Harry heard him or not because not even a second later, Harry releases a quiet, “I missed you too.” He takes a deep breath. “So much, Lou.”

They stand there for a couple of minutes before the bell above the door chimes. Harry stiffens suddenly, but only moves his head back enough to press their foreheads together and whisper a quiet, “I’ll be right back,” before he extracts himself from Louis’ arms and walks towards the register.

It’s only then that Louis processes his surroundings. Harry is behind the counter and Barbra is nowhere to be seen. Wait, Harry works at Barbra’s now?

Louis shakes off his confusion as he walks to the other side of the counter and waits at the end of the small line that has formed. He sees Harry’s dimple pop out after a few seconds and knows it’s for him.

When he makes his way to the front of the line, Louis tries to act as casual as possible, sets both hands on the countertop, and pretends to survey the pastries to the side of the register.

“May I help you, sir?” Harry asks. 

Well, Louis assumes it’s Harry asking even though he is ninety percent sure that deeper voice belongs to a grown man and definitely  _ not _ his best friend. The shock must register on Louis’ face because Harry’s dimple deepens that much more.

“I’ll take two of the originals, please,” Louis states, concentrating fully on keeping his composure.

“Two?” Harry asks confusedly. “That’s a lot of donut for just one little lad.” He makes sure to put extra emphasis on ‘little’.

Louis grits his teeth before he answers. “Yeah, well, I was going to give one to my best friend who I missed dearly,” Louis sighs. Why does his face feel hot all of a sudden? He diverts his gaze back to the display case. “But now I’m thinking about giving one to my younger sisters instead.” Louis does his best to focus on the sprinkled donuts on the top row.

He feels his breath stutter when Harry places his hands on top of his on the countertop. Louis keeps his eyes trained on the donuts until Harry tightens his grip. Louis flips his hands over, locking their fingers together, catching Harry’s gaze.

“You came here to get me a donut?” Harry asks softly, looking down at their hands. His thumb caresses over Louis’ knuckles.

“No,” Louis starts to say, but Harry squeezes his hands again. “Okay.” Louis giggles. “Yes, I was going to get us donuts from our favorite restaurant in town to surprise you with, okay?” he says. Harry keeps his gaze on their intertwined fingers. But Louis would very much like all of his attention now. “Oi, Curly!” Louis half shouts. How deep does that damn dimple get? “When did you get so tall?”

Louis’ question is answered by Harry’s brilliant cackle. At least some things didn’t change.

“Um?” Harry says, amusement dancing in his eyes. “A few months ago, I guess?”

Louis tries to stop his mind from thinking about all of the other people who might have noticed Harry’s sudden changes. He shakes those thoughts from head, untangles his fingers from Harry’s, and reaches for his wallet.

“Alright, Curly, what do you say? Two of the originals? Or do you think Barbra’s created something better while I’ve been gone?” Louis asks, trying to force as much positivity in his voice as he can muster.

Harry’s eyebrows are furrowed together when he says, “No. Two of the originals sound perfect, actually.”

Louis doesn’t really think as he cups Harry’s cheek, smoothing out the lines between his brows with his thumb. Harry leans into the touch, smiling brighter than before.

“And hey,” Harry says softly, grabbing Louis’ wrist, keeping him there, “it’s on the house.”

Louis can’t help but laugh. “Haz, how am I supposed to make a nice grand gesture at seven o’clock tonight at our tree when we reunite,” he looks at Harry sternly to make sure he knows there is no room for an argument, “if you paid for my grand gesture. Nuh-uh. These are on me,” Louis says, already pulling money out of his wallet. “Please?” he asks from under his eyelashes to ensure he wins this time.

Harry doesn’t even look annoyed when he lets out a sigh and turns his face, exhaling a soft, “Fine,” into Louis’ palm. He puckers his lips softly before turning his face and nuzzling Louis’ palm once more. “Always such a gentleman. Never lets me do anything nice for him,” Harry says more to himself than to Louis.

Louis giggles and rubs his thumb up Harry’s cheekbone. “Seven o’clock? It’s a date?” Since when does Louis’ neck heat up at the mention of the word ‘date’? He doesn’t dwell on it for too long because one look at Harry’s face tells him he’s in good company.

“Yeah,” Harry says. “It’s a date.”

-

4:38? How has it only been an hour since Louis last saw Harry? It feels like it’s been at least seven.

He’s already unpacked, started a load of laundry, helped the twins with their homework, checked the fridge for something to eat, organized his clothing in his wardrobe (which seemed a bit more empty than he left it, strangely), checked the fridge for something to eat, switched his laundry, checked the fridge for something to eat, and caught up with Lottie. He’s also managed to chew his nails down to the bone and there’s still more than two hours before he’s meant to be at their tree.

Louis forces himself to lay in his bed and take a nap. He checks the alarm he set for 6:30 fifteen times before he finally puts his phone face down on his bedside table.

Five minutes later, he’s slipping on his shoes and grabbing their donuts on his way out the door.

As he makes his way up the hill, behind the bush at the end of their street, he hates that there’s only one pronounced set of footsteps marking their way up the hill. Still, Louis thinks, it’s better than Harry having found someone else to share their tree with. God, he is so selfish.

Just as he rounds the trunk, he sees someone else there too. Who could have possibly found their tree? Well, it’s not impossible, but it’s not very likely. Who could this intruder be? 

As soon as he sees the figure rip his hands through the sides of his hair and drag one hand across his forehead, he breathes a sigh of relief. It’s just Harry.

Louis tries his best to be as quiet as possible, but as he makes his way over to the rock Harry’s perched himself on, he hears Harry’s telltale sniffle.

Any pent up energy quickly flows out of his body as waves of concern wash over him.

“Haz?” Louis asks gently, placing a tentative hand on Harry’s shoulder.

Harry jumps, turning around quickly, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

Louis really wishes his suspicions were wrong, but Harry’s bloodshot eyes and the fresh streaks down his cheeks tell Louis everything he needs to know.

“Louis? What are you doing here?” Harry asks, trying to simultaneously wipe his cheeks and nose at the same time on the sleeve of what looks to be Louis’ jumper. “We aren’t supposed to meet here for a while.” He glances at the bag Louis is clutching and a ghost of a smile dances across his lips.

Louis uses the same hand holding the bag to scratch the back of his neck. “You know me. Can never sit still for long. Was missing the tree and such. Wanted to get out of the house, all the girls were home so it was a lot. Wanted to clear my head a bit.” He’s rambling. He can feel himself rambling and he can’t get himself to stop. But if it means Harry will keep giggling at him instead of crying, he’ll ramble all night long.

“And you were just going to wait for another,” Harry checks his watch, doing a poor job concealing his amusement, “hour and forty-three minutes?” There’s that damn dimple again. God, Louis missed him. He reaches out and slides his thumb into it, loving the feeling of the flesh give way further under his touch.

“I may have hoped to see your stupid face or something,” Louis says on a whisper, watching as Harry closes his eyes, releases a long sigh, and lets his face rest in Louis hand just like he always has.

Louis only remembers what he stumbled upon when Harry’s breath catches in an aftershock of crying.

“Hey, Haz,” Louis says scratching Harry’s scalp behind his ear, “let’s lie down, yeah?”

Nodding, Harry releases another heavy sigh and opens his eyes. Instantly, Louis feels overwhelmed by the electric green that shines back at him, the redness making Harry’s eyes appear even more vibrant than normal.

Louis smiles and pushes his thumb into Harry’s dimple one last time before dropping his hand in favor of grabbing Harry’s and intertwining their fingers.

He pulls Harry to the side of the tree that faces the path they walk up as it’s the only side that has a big enough gap between the roots for them to both fit comfortably.

As if nothing has changed and Harry isn’t suddenly bigger than Louis, Harry’s eyes dart from Louis to the tree, staring expectantly at Louis when he doesn’t immediately take his place with his back against the trunk.

Louis giggles to himself as he sits down and not even a moment later, Harry is making room for himself between Louis’ legs. Louis hands Harry the donuts and hooks his chin over his shoulder, watching as Harry uses his own lap as their plate. For a while, they just munch quietly on their donuts.

As always, Louis finishes before Harry and curls his arms around Harry’s stomach.

“So in the thirteen million phone conversations we’ve had, you didn’t once think to tell me that you started working at Barbra’s?” Louis murmurs against Harry’s temple, placing a kiss there. “Or that you decided to turn into another human being?” He pinches Harry’s side in retaliation, making Harry giggle and squirm. “And that you’re now taller than me?”

After Harry settles down, he crumples up their leftovers in the plastic wrappings their snacks were in, stuffs them into the Barbra’s bag, and secures it under Louis’ thigh so it doesn’t blow away.

“Yeah, Lou,” Harry says, resting his head on Louis’ shoulder. “Loads of times. But I didn’t really know how to work, _‘Hey, I miss you so much I don’t know what to do with myself, so I got a job I don’t need at our favorite restaurant so I could do something productive,’_ into a conversation without making you feel guiltier for being at uni than you already did.” Harry turns his head to look Louis in the eye. “That wouldn’t have been fair. I’m so proud of you, you know? You’re in one of the top Engineering courses this country offers and I would never, _never_ want you to feel like you owed me more than you already burden yourself with.” 

Harry’s eyes are still sagging with a sadness that Louis wants to make disappear, but he sounds so earnest. He sounds so unrelentingly proud, that the weight tied to Louis’ chest feels  _ that _ much heavier.

The worst part isn’t that Harry would do that for him. It’s that Louis is happy he did because if he knew his boy was sitting at home missing him this much, he would have been on the first train out of London, and in his arms as fast as possible. He wouldn’t have made it this far knowing that Harry was beside himself without him. He wouldn’t be at the top of his class. Basically,  he wouldn’t be where he is right now if Harry hadn’t been looking out for him even when Louis, himself, didn’t know it.

“God,” Louis breathes against Harry’s cheek, trying to fight back the sudden lump in his throat. “I’m so lucky to know you. To have you in my life.” Louis brushes the hair out of Harry’s eyes. “You know that, right?”

He watches Harry’s throat as he swallows. “Of course, Lou. You’re so,” he breaks off to swallow again, “God, you’re so important to me. I wouldn’t trade you for anything.”

They hold each other’s gaze for a long time, both seemingly searching for something until Louis’ stomach drops. He sits up straighter, pulling Harry with him as he moves.

“Hazza, you weren’t crying earlier because of me, were you?” Louis’ voice catches in his throat. He tries to create a bit of space between them so he can look Harry in the eyes properly. He feels bile start to rise up as he tries to continue. “You didn’t think I would be upset, did you? I wouldn’t be upset about that, Haz. Never. I know you were doing it for me, for both of us.” Louis needs to make sure that there isn’t a doubt in Harry’s mind.

Harry’s eyes sag deeper and Louis feels like he’s been punched in the gut. Louis pulls Harry back to his chest when he sees his eyes clench shut.

“No, Lou,” Harry murmurs wetly. “It’s not you.” He takes a deep breath, trying to regulate his breathing. It doesn’t work. “It’s-” Harry starts, broken, defeated. “Lou,” he whispers. “He’s leaving, Louis. He’s leaving for good this time. He’s not coming back.”

The weight that’s been tugging on Louis’ heart feels like it’s multiplied at least ten times its original size. He turns Harry in his arms and pulls him in as close as he can.

Louis knows what he saw on the walk up here. At the time, he tried to tell himself that Des putting a suitcase into the boot of his car was just for a business trip. But he’d seen the same set in the man’s shoulders, the ghost of memories past. He knew what was happening, but he hadn’t let himself believe it. God, how could he have blinded himself to reality so blatantly?

He doesn’t know if it’s just a few minutes or an hour that passes before Harry lifts his face from his shoulder. When he does, Louis sees the drying tears, the bit of snot that begrudgingly made its way to the tip of Harry’s nose no matter how hard Harry probably tried to stop it. He sees his red lips, puffy and bitten from trying to conceal his sobs. He see his boy’s beautiful eyes, red rimmed and swollen. His boy looks broken and Louis hates himself for still thinking he looks breathtaking.

“How did you do it, Louis?” Harry asks on the tail end of a broken breath. “How did you deal with it when Mark left? How did you keep it together so well?” He looks so young and Louis is reminded that he’s still his little Hazza; he  _ is _ so young.

“You,” Louis hears himself answer honestly. Welp, he already said it, so he might as well finish what he started. “You’re what got me through it, Harry. And I know you think I held it together, but you were what held me together. You kept me talking about it, talking about what was happening, talking about how I was feeling. You might not remember it now, but you spent plenty of nights holding me together.

“We spent your fourteenth birthday in my bed, just lying there, talking. You did that for me instead of doing any of the crazy things I proposed to celebrate. And that night-” Louis really didn’t think he would ever tell Harry this. “That night you fell asleep wrapped around me. The only time I was ever the little spoon.” He chuckles lightly to himself, the weight on his heart lightening, if only slightly, when Harry joins him.

“That night,” Louis begins again, more confident, looking Harry in the eyes. “Harry, that night after you fell asleep, I cried for hours. I cried because it was the only place I ever felt comfortable enough to cry.  In your arms.” 

He has to break eye contact when he feels his cheeks and neck heating up. Harry’s fingers are there though, tilting his chin up gently, bringing their gazes back together. 

“And when I couldn’t cry anymore,” Louis continues with a new sense of purpose, “I counted your breaths while you were fast asleep. I counted the amount of times you murmured my name in your sleep,” Louis admits bluntly, loving the red that creeps onto Harry’s cheeks. “I counted the times your heart beat into my fingers where they were wrapped around your wrist. Only then did I fall asleep,” Louis says on a breath. “ _ You’re _ how I stayed together, Haz. It was you.”

They sit there for a couple minutes, looking into each other’s eyes, absorbing everything that’s just been shared. Eventually, Louis leans in with puckered lips and releases a sigh of relief when they finally make contact. 

Louis feels all the tension in his body release at the same time he feels the wrinkles in Harry’s forehead give way under his lips. He lets out a deep breath he didn’t even know he was holding and it ruffles Harry’s curls. He feels Harry sigh against his chin. He lets his lips rest against Harry’s forehead for a long beat, pulling back only to push them forward for a shorter, more innocent peck. 

When he pulls back, the smile that breaks onto Harry’s face is the most beautiful thing that Louis thinks he will ever see. It’s like all of the lightbulbs in the world are shining back at him.

Harry tucks his face into Louis’ neck and places a few kisses there. Louis can feel Harry’s smile against his collarbone and tucks his own matching smile into the crown of Harry’s head.

Yeah, Louis thinks. This boy in his arms is probably the best thing that will ever happen to him.

#  -

Louis’ not sure how long they sat there talking, but by the time they make their way back down the hill, the sun has set and they have to use their phones as torches. 

Louis told Harry everything about Uni, ranging from his annoying flatmate, to the one party he’d forgotten to tell Harry about. Louis conveniently left out the fact that he hadn’t told Harry because he danced with the bloke from Physics and bailed when he realized he was picturing Harry the whole time.

In return, Louis was happy to hear about all of the things Harry had done while he was gone. His grades had gotten better, he’d taken up running and working out, and he always made sure to keep their booth open. The weight that had been pulling on Louis’ heart feels like it evaporated. He feels like he can breathe properly for the first time in months. 

As their houses come into view, Harry tightens his grip in Louis’ hand. 

“Hey, Haz,” Louis asks, gently pulling Harry to get his attention. 

“What’s up, Lou?” Harry answers, looking intently at the empty spot in his driveway. 

“Can I stay over tonight?” Louis asks, searching Harry’s profile. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees the corner of Harry’s mouth twitch upwards. “It’s so crowded at home. Not really sure if I’ll be able to sleep.”

“‘Course, Lou,” Harry says, finally turning to look at him. Louis wants to bottle up that dimple and carry it around with him everywhere he goes. “You know my bed’s just as much yours as it is mine.” 

They make their way inside Harry’s house. It must be later than Louis suspected because the whole house is quiet, Anne and Gemma having gone to bed already. 

As soon as they make it to Harry’s room, they separate and silently go about their bedtime routine. Louis goes over to Harry’s dresser in search of something to sleep in and finds almost every item of clothing he’d left at home when he packed for uni. He smiles to himself as he digs through the drawer and finally decides on one of Harry’s old worn band t-shirts and a pair of his own black shorts. 

Passing Harry on his way to the bathroom, Louis revels in the combination of pride and bashfulness when Harry sees his outfit. 

Louis winks and swats Harry’s bum in passing. 

By the time he makes it back to Harry’s room, Harry is already tucked under the sheets, staring lazily at the ceiling. Louis climbs in, rests his head over Harry’s heart, and slides his knee over Harry’s thigh. He plays with the fabric that is definitely pulling too tight over Harry’s chest.

“Did you forget to mention that you’ve become a kleptomaniac, Haz?” Louis asks cheekily, giggling when he feels Harry’s heart beat harder under his cheek. He looks up, watching as the red from his cheeks travels all the way up the tips of his ears. 

“Well, you weren’t using them,” Harry says as he grits his teeth. Louis watches his Adam’s apple bob just before he whispers, “Smells like you.” 

Louis feels his heart beating against his own ribcage. He looks down to where Harry’s hand has joined his on his chest. 

“I really missed you, Lou.”

Louis almost misses the quiet confession from where he’s stuck between their two now wildly beating hearts. Louis lifts his head and rests his weight on his forearm to look at Harry. 

When their eyes meet, Louis feels his breath stop short of leaving his lungs.

Harry’s eyes are such a beautiful green, charged. He remembers the first time he realized Harry’s eyes are filled with lightning. Louis was nine and they were in this same bed, talking about God-knows-what when he’d looked at Harry and saw the striking green filled with small stripes of yellows surrounded by tiny flecks of blue. It looked like there was a lightning storm brewing in Harry’s eyes. 

Louis’ thumb moves on its own, stroking Harry's bottom lip. He means to say something, but he forgets everything when he feels Harry’s thumb caress the skin next to his eye.

“You still have stars in your eyes,” Harry whispers softly.

Louis couldn’t contain the smile on his face if someone paid him.

“I really want to kiss you,” Louis breathes out. 

He immediately stiffens because that is definitely  _ not _ what he was going to say.

He doesn’t get a chance to apologize before Harry smiles so bright it could rival the sun. 

He searches Harry’s face for any sign of doubt and when he doesn’t find any, he slides his palm down to Harry’s jaw, his thumb lazily rubbing his dimple. Leaning down, he feels Harry’s breath hitch at the same time as his own.

The first press is innocent, Harry’s lips soft but firm, pressing into Louis’. It’s a simple kiss, but it feels confident.

Kissing Harry feels like taking that first sip of water in the morning, like the first autumn breeze after a stifling summer, like shade on the hottest day of the year. It feels like coming home and sitting down after a long day. It feels like the sweetest relief Louis has ever felt. 

He tightens his grip in Harry’s hand as they both breathe in through their noses. When they separate, Louis rests their foreheads together, both smiling too big to really see each other’s eyes.

-

The next morning, Louis wakes up in the same position he always does in Harry’s bed. His hand is in the same curly head of hair, his chest is pressed to the same (if only a few inches broader) back, his arm is in the same vice-like grip, and their legs are in the same tangled mess he’s grown to expect. 

What he doesn’t expect is the way his cheeks heat and his chest gets tight when all of last night’s memories come flooding back. They kissed. They kissed and they’d both been happy about it. Louis doesn’t feel the longing he always used to feel in this position. Instead, he’s filled with a happiness he never thought possible. 

He doesn’t even have time to let a single doubt slip into his mind before Harry is squeezing his fingers. 

“Hi,” a sleep rasped voice murmurs in front of him. Louis’ lips are on the base of Harry’s neck, so he feels the vibrations as Harry speaks, but that voice is so deep, it still sounds like it belongs to a stranger.

Harry turns slowly in the circle of Louis’ arms. When they’re finally face to face, Louis is enchanted by the sleepy blink of those beautiful doe eyes. 

Louis delicately brushes Harry’s fringe out of his eyes, giving him an unobscured view. As Harry registers the movement, his lips curve into a soul crushing smile. 

“Hey,” Louis whispers. He feels his expression mirroring Harry’s.

With not even half a minute of hesitation, they’re meeting in the middle for a soft, close mouthed kiss. They break apart slowly and Harry rests their foreheads together. When Louis blinks his eyes open again, he’s met with sparkling lightning and an open smile. 

“I’ve been waiting a really long time to be able to do that,” Harry whispers into their mingling morning breath. 

And, really? Does he expect Louis to just accept that? Louis pinches Harry’s lower back in retaliation. 

“Well, bub, you could have done that ages ago if I remember correctly,” Louis says, haughtily. “I dared you and everything.” 

He’s met with an incredulous expression and only half a dimple. 

“Yes, well, Lewis,” Harry says, with a pinch of his own to Louis’ back. “You do remember correctly. But I also remember moments after that, you tackling me to the ground, telling me that I was your best mate,” Harry says, putting emphasis on the ‘T’. “And I also remember that wrestling match ending with you telling me that you would be able to snog more boys than me by the end of the year. Not exactly a confidence booster, Lou.” 

Harry looks away after an especially indignant huff. There’s red blotches creeping up his neck, making Louis’ retort die on his tongue. Harry looks upset and vulnerable, and Louis is definitely going to kick his younger self up the arse as soon as he can get his hands on a time machine. 

“Hazza,” Louis whispers as he brings both hands to cup Harry’s face. 

He doesn’t give Harry a chance to answer before he’s bringing their lips together again. He plants three firm kisses on Harry’s lips, the last one longer than the first two, each kiss representing three words they haven’t said out loud to each other since Louis was seventeen. The weight of those words are stored in a heavy lock box inside his heart.

“Hazza,” he repeats more sternly, “in a completely idiotic move, I was trying to make you jealous. I thought you were rejecting me and didn’t want to kiss me. I thought my dare freaked you out and you didn’t want that fro-” 

The rest of his sentence is cut off by two quick, but very insistent kisses, and one longer, more thorough third kiss.

With his hands still planted on either side of Harry’s face, Louis feels the full dimple give way under his thumb before he feels the curve of lips against his own. 

“Lou,” Harry murmurs from his new position, his lips firmly connected to Louis’ forehead. Harry sounds exhausted, smug, and far too attractive to be healthy. Louis decides that he needs to find a way to stop Harry Styles. “Louis, I have wanted to kiss you every day of my life since the day I learned what a kiss meant.” More quietly he says, “I didn’t want to be just your experiment and risk losing you.” 

And just like that, every bit of oxygen that was left in Louis’ lungs is sucked out. He replays every teasing glance, every doubt, every lost opportunity in a single moment before he’s brought back to the present by very persistent lips on his forehead. 

“Hey,” Harry murmurs. “Get out of there, I can feel you thinking too hard.” 

Louis tries to roll away, but he’s trapped by arms that are way too strong to belong to Harry, and brought back into a chest that is way too defined to belong to Harry either. Louis should really look into that, but there are more important tasks at hand. 

He buries his burning face in Harry’s neck and lets out any leftover air in his body. 

“I’m. Such. An. Idiot.” Louis half yells into Harry’s neck. 

“Hey, no,” Harry sighs into Louis’ hair. 

But Louis isn’t having any of it. He’s not going to let his past self off that easily. He messed up. He messed up big time. 

“All of the boys that got to snog you before me,” Louis says into the strong muscles of Harry’s chest. “All those times I missed kissing you. Holding you. I missed out on being the first person that was able to-” Louis’ chest closes up on him. Images of other boys being able to touch  _ his _ Harry flood through his mind. “And I waited all this time. I missed the chance to make it special for you,” Louis barely gets out in a whisper. 

As the first tear makes a clean break towards Louis’ cheek, there are strong hands holding his face in place and thumbs sweeping under his eyes. Louis takes a deep breath as he opens his eyes and is once again pinned in place by a thunderstorm of lightning. But there’s a hurt in those eyes that Louis’ never seen before and never wants to see again. He tries to retreat to the safe hiding place of Harry’s chest, but those strong hands hold him in place. 

Harry brings their lips together in the same comfortable triple pattern that they have set for themselves before he’s pulling back again. He looks Louis directly in the eyes with a soberingly serious set to his eyebrows. 

“Louis William Tomlinson, if you think, even for a second, that I spent my entire life falling in love with you only to go and have sex with someone else, then I don’t think you know me at all.” 

The words are so serious, so matter of fact, that Louis can’t help the whimper that falls out of his mouth. 

The combined shake of his own hands while cradling Harry’s head and the force that he crashes their mouths together makes him unable to think properly. The only words that break through his mind are  _ mine, Iloveyou, always, forever, Harry, Iloveyou, mine.  _

This time, it’s a proper kiss with Louis tracing the seam of Harry’s lips, asking for entry without a thought of morning breath. He’s rewarded when Harry parts his lips and their tongues slip together for the first time. Behind Louis’ eyelids, he sees flashes of lightening in a green sky. They break apart after a few minutes with equally labored breaths.

“I love you,” Louis whispers, feeling like anything louder will break the barrier of truth and love they have built around themselves. 

Harry apparently doesn’t feel that way because seconds later, he is throwing his head back with a loud bark of laughter. 

“I would fucking hope so,” Harry says, his smile almost blinding. “Because I fully intend on never letting you go.” 

An unexpected wave of confidence rushes through Louis’ chest. “And what makes you think I’m yours to hold on to, Styles?” Louis asks sternly. He thinks it’s stern, but from where he is, it looks like Harry is trying really hard not to laugh, and failing. 

“Well,” Harry adds petulantly, like he’s speaking to a child. “For one, I’ve had my hands on your arse for the past ten minutes and you haven’t even noticed.” He confirms his statement by squeezing firmly. Louis isn’t given the option to reply because Harry kisses him quiet, and well, there are worse ways of being told to shut up. “And secondly, you made me promise not to go off and replace you while you were gone at Uni. And you made sure I knew exactly what you meant by kissing the corner of my mouth, my forehead, and that one spot behind my ear I told you about before you jumped in a car and left me for six months,” Harry states with far too much confidence. “So yeah, I think you’re mine.” 

Louis feels heat rush from his ears to his chest under Harry’s serious stare. And here he thought he was being so subtle. 

“Yes, well,” Louis huffs. “I didn’t want to be one of those clichés going off to uni, only to come back to find the love of my life with a boyfriend, preparing to live his happily ever after without me.” 

He doesn’t realize exactly what he’s said until he hears Harry stop breathing. There’s an apology on the tip of his tongue, but he never gets to formulate it because there is a very stubborn boy pressing his tongue into his mouth. Louis tries his best to ignore the very persistent hands squeezing his arse cheeks also. They aren’t really pushing for anything, just kind of there, claiming their territory. 

Louis loses himself to the kiss, the feeling of belonging fully to someone else, and he’s content to stay that way. It’s only when he hears his and Harry’s whimpers and he feels that they are both equally hard, that he remembers where they are. 

He pulls back from the kiss with his body as much as Harry will allow and does his best to ignore Harry’s whines of protest. 

“Haz,” Louis murmurs into another kiss. He’s weak, sue him. “Hazza. Baby,” Louis says between kisses. “Harry.” Louis makes a point to stop kissing back. 

Finally, Harry nearly goes limp, opens his eyes, and has the nerve to look innocent. He would fool Louis too, if it weren’t for the fact that there is basically no green left in his eyes. Harry takes refuge in Louis’ collarbones.

“Harry, we are not doing this,” Louis states. He does his best to ignore the indignant huff that leaves Harry’s mouth and the all too insistent kisses being placed on his neck. “Let me clarify, we are not doing this right  _ now _ . Not when your mum and Gemma are right downstairs. And with any sense of logic, my mum and Fiz are both downstairs as well. We’re making this special.” 

The kisses stop and he feels Harry smile against his collarbone. 

“My boyfriend is such a gentleman,” Harry murmurs, planting a gentle kiss like he can’t help himself. “Won’t even let me defile him when our family is within hearing distance. What a bore.” He’s laughing by the time he finishes. 

Louis doesn’t know what causes his body to stiffen; ‘boyfriend’ or the fact that Harry is so open to saying ‘our family’. Whatever it is, it’s enough for Harry to notice because he places three soft kisses next to Louis’ nipple and turns more onto his chest. 

When Harry looks up, Louis feels himself break into a soft smile and tightens his arm around Harry’s shoulders. Puckering his lips, he silently asks for a kiss and is rewarded when a soft set of lips join his own. 

It’s more soft and innocent, both of them pulling away only seconds later. 

“More sleep, then we’ll deal with everyone else?” Louis asks into Harry’s curls.

“Yes, please,” Harry says before going lax in Louis’ arms. 

The last thing Louis hears before he passes out is Harry’s soft, “M’taking you on a date tonight.”

-

Later that night, Louis takes a deep breath and is greeted by the smell of soil, muddy water, and freshly mowed grass. Basically, Louis is in heaven. He almost forgot how it felt to be able to just lay back and let his senses overwhelm him. Slowly, he can feel the tension he’s been carrying leave his body. 

He settles back on the faded blanket and gazes up at the stars. Those too, he can’t believe he almost forgot what it was like to see so many stars that he loses count. Listening to the sound of the stream rushing gently by his feet, he feels more at peace than he has in a long time. 

After another minute or so, he hears the sound of Harry pushing himself off of his old truck, the metal creaking from the loss of his weight. Harry really was taking his sweet old time putting away that picnic basket. He was probably staring at Louis, as it’s apparently his self proclaimed favorite pastime. Louis is in love with a creep.

He feels Harry slowly lower himself onto the blanket. Louis waits a total of twenty seconds before he shifts closer into Harry’s heat, fitting the back of his head onto Harry’s pec, still facing the night sky. Eventually, Harry pulls Louis even tighter into his side, the weight of his arm on Louis shoulders. Delicate fingers slowly start tracing unknown shapes on his bicep. 

“I missed you so much,” Louis says into the night air and Harry stops the mindless shapes. “I thought about you everyday. I thought about what you were doing, what you would say to me if you saw me. When I was alone, I wished you were there. When I was with other people, I kept trying to find a way to bring you up.” Louis swallows. 

This is his boyfriend, his best friend, and the love of his life, so he refuses to keep anything from him. He’s going to give himself to Harry entirely. After this, everything is under Harry’s control. Louis closes his eyes to finish the rest. He doesn’t even worry for a minute. He’s not afraid of his love for his boy.

“I thought it would get easier, you know? In every book I’ve read, and every movie I’ve seen, they always say that time makes it easier. So I waited every day for six months. Waited for the day I would stop missing you, stop wanting to kiss you. But that day never came. Every day that we couldn’t make time to see each other, every minute I went without being able to touch you, I felt like I was drowning.

“Made me want you more every day. Made me think about every day I was wasting not telling you that I wanted you to be mine. It never faded, was always just another part of my day. And still, even now, I want you so much it hurts, sometimes.” 

Louis keeps his eyes closed, only letting out a sigh of relief when the shapes on his arm start up again.

“Well, I’m glad it’s mutual,” Harry says. 

Louis know’s he’s trying to sound confident, like this conversation isn’t affecting him. But Louis’ been falling in love with this boy for years, been studying him his whole life. He hears the slight tremble in Harry’s voice, feels the shake in his fingers. If history proves itself, Harry will- 

Harry sniffles. “I love you so much I want to rewrite history sometimes. I want to start all over again, go back to that day I didn’t kiss you. It would be me and you, no doubt, nothing but us.” 

Louis rolls over then, letting all of his weight rest on his forearm while his other hand cradles Harry’s jaw. He looks into Harry’s eyes, they’re red rimmed as he expected, but they’re also warm with only a hint of sadness nestled in there. 

“Baby,” Louis murmurs, unable to resist kissing Harry. He keeps it short, because this conversation is important and kisses can be repaid later. “I need you to stop regretting any choices you’ve made, we’ve made, right now. And I need to do the same because how would we have been able to grow if we’d been planted in each other’s skin? What if I’d convinced myself that I forced you into loving me if you kissed me after a  _ dare _ ? How do we know you wouldn’t have felt guilty for kissing me? We don’t. But what we  _ do _ know...” 

Louis really needs to figure out how to resist kissing Harry’s mouth when he’s smiling. 

“What I do know,” Louis finally continues after breaking away, only a little bit out of breath, “is that you are the love of my life. And maybe we weren’t each other’s first kisses, or first, erm, other stuff, but we can be each other’s last first kiss. Eventually, we will have our most important firsts; sex and everything else we do together after this moment.” Louis should get a medal for ignoring the fire that ignites in Harry’s eyes. 

Softer, he adds, “But you are my first love. My only love. Love of my life. End of my story, love.” Louis slides his way down Harry’s body, planting himself back on Harry’s chest. Fighting a stubborn lump in his throat, he finally finishes, “And I don’t want to regret anything about you.” 

“Lou,” Harry whispers. Louis arches his neck to look at Harry upside down, ignoring the way the grass itches his ankles.  Harry’s smiling up at the stars, but he has water pooling at the tips of his ears. “You are the most-” He clears his throat. “I always thought that I was building you up in my head. A hero worship type thing or summat. But now you’re here and you’re telling me you love me. And you’re being yourself and being so open. And really, I feel like I almost underestimated you.” He turns his head and brings their gazes together. His dimple pops as the same time Louis feels the skin beside his eyes crinkle. The dimple looks just as deep from upside down. “And I promise to limit my regrets to donuts and school work. Never you.” 

Spider-Man kisses are highly overrated. After a second, they both let out a huff of frustration. Louis turns himself the right way around, pointedly ignoring Harry’s pained grunt when his elbow collides with Harry’s ribs. He seems to be mullified anyway by the time Louis is kissing him again, sliding his fingers into Harry’s curls. 

They’re both smiling too hard for it to be a proper kiss, but it feels like home, feels like neverending happiness, and Louis can’t find himself to care.

~~~

It is a beautiful wedding in Jay’s humble opinion. Every flower is in place, everyone was magically on time, and no rogue extended family members have gotten half naked. Yet. 

Harry’s black jacket is perfectly pressed (even after he’d been stressed for weeks that a silk collar needed special attention), and Louis’ plain black jacket is so perfectly tailored, Jay almost wanted to pay double the cost of the jacket to the tailor alone. 

From her vast experience with weddings, it has been the best one she’s ever been to. 

As she looks out onto the dancefloor while the DJ introduces the last songs of the night, she can’t help the few tears that keep escaping out the corner of her eye. She watches Harry with his arms loosely circling Louis’ hips, resting his head on Louis’ shoulder as they both sway to their own beat in the middle of the floor. 

She and Anne had ushered them out of their jackets seconds after they both slammed wedding cake into each other’s faces. She has a vague recollection of Liam stealing Harry’s blue tie and Niall wrapping Louis’ green tie around his forehead hours ago. 

They look like a vision in the middle of the dancefloor, in their own personal Louis and Harry bubble, forgetting everyone else in the room.

Louis must be whispering something she’ll never want to hear because she sees a blush color on Harry’s cheeks before he hides his face in Louis’ neck. From what she can see of Louis’ hands where they’re laying across Harry’s shoulders, he seems to be rubbing his back lightly. 

She tunes into the conversation at the unexpectedly peaceful, parents’ table with Anne, Mark, Des, and herself. 

“They were always meant to fall in love, you know,” Des says from behind his beer, gesturing to the only two figures left on the dancefloor. 

“Yeah, they came from good stock,” Mark answers. “They were always meant to fall in love.” 

Jay and Anne share a split second of understanding eye contact from across the table. 

She feels eyes on her and when she looks up, she makes eye contact with Harry and winks at him. 

She smiles when she hears Anne’s giggle from across the table.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> This is my first published fic so if you have comments I'm more than open to them. There is going to be another part, but I have no idea when I will get around to writing it. 
> 
> Find me at [Twitter](http://twitter.com/butliamwhy) and [Tumblr](http://idareyoutotakealook.tumblr.com)
> 
> Here is the [post with the edit for this fic](http://idareyoutotakealook.tumblr.com/post/148373123175)
> 
> Thank you for reading<3


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